


Rose Is A Rose Is A Rose Bowl

by Principia



Series: Carmichael Industries 2.0 [5]
Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Season/Series 05, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Principia/pseuds/Principia





	Rose Is A Rose Is A Rose Bowl

The alarm kicked in loudly next to Chuck Bartowski’s head. Some upbeat number with horns from earlier this year… _last_ year that for some reason KROQ thought was acceptable to be playing at 4 o’clock in the morning.

“ _Please_ make it stop,” Chuck groaned, as he threw his arm across his face to shield his eyes from the not-yet-existent light that would be in the room, if it weren’t four. In the morning.

A painfully long moment later, Chuck felt the soft brush of his wife’s hair against his arm, then the brush of a few even softer, silkier parts against him as she climbed up and reached across him to shut off the alarm, before flopping unceremoniously back over.

Chuck smiled, despite himself. “Thank you baby.”

"I cannot _believe_ we are doing this,” Sarah moaned.

Not even a minute later, a series of sharp doorknocks echoed through the bedroom.

"I cannot _believe_ we went to bed without clothes on with guests in the house,” Chuck responded ruefully, looking over at the dimly illuminated play of muscles in Sarah’s back as she ducked over her side of the bed to rummage around for something to put on.

"Well we _started_ the night with clothes on,” Sarah groused lightly, as she came up with his boxers and tossed them at him.

Chuck accepted the shorts gratefully and started wrestling them on with as much expedition as he could manage at the moment.

"And whose fault was it that we didn’t _finish_ it that way?” Chuck countered cheerfully.

"I blame it on your unusually large test batch of bellinis," Sarah said primly.

“ _I_ blame it on _you_ wearing your red silk pajamas to bed last night.”

Sooner than Chuck would’ve liked, Sarah reemerged with the silky top half of last night’s PJs already halfway on. 

"Bell-i-niiis," Sarah sang out as she finished pulling the top over her head without unbuttoning it.

Another set of knocks, this time more impatient. Bad time to be thinking about the way that top had felt under his fingertips just a few scant hours ago.

"DUDE! I CANNOT BE- _LIEVE_ WE ARE DOING THIIIIIIIISSS!!!”

Morgan Grimes’ voice rang out loud and clear. And loud. Very loud.

"You’ll forgive me if I slip up and call him Organ," Sarah grumbled.

"Oh, come on, how often does Stanford end up in the Rose Bowl?" Chuck sighed.

"Chuck, they were there last year. And Morgan didn’t even _go_ to Stanford.”

"Okay, fine, but we didn’t go _last_ year, and before that, it hadn’t been since my freshman year.”

Chuck could feel the look Sarah was shooting his way, even if neither of them had summoned the wherewithal to turn on any of the lights yet as they worked to make themselves presentable.

"Besides, if we’d let Morgan have his say, we’d have been camping out on the parade route instead."

"Why? We _have_ grandstand tickets, never mind the box seats at the game,” Sarah retorted, as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

Chuck had to admit Sarah kinda had a point there.

"BECAUSE IT’S PART OF THE WHOLE TOURNAMENT OF ROSES EXPERIENCE!" Morgan hollered through the door.

"If there isn’t coffee ready downstairs, Morgan can experience camping out on the porch starting tonight. DID YOU HEAR _THAT_?”

"YES, AND I FORGIVE YOU!"

Sarah turned to look over her shoulder back at Chuck before standing.

A moment later, Chuck registered the faint scent of not only coffee, but —

"Is that _bacon_?” Sarah asked, her nose scrunching adorably.

"APPLEWOOD SMOKED. AND COOKED UNTIL IT STANDS UP WHEN YOU HOLD IT, JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE IT."

"Okay, he’s forgiven," Sarah quipped as she strode over to the door.

Good thing they weren’t in the Echo Park apartment anymore, with the racket Morgan was making. Mrs. Heditsian would’ve skinned him alive before the other neighbors could finish calling the cops.

Chuck shook his head as he reached over and turned on the lamp on the nightstand, just as Sarah opened the door.

As expected, Morgan’s smiling face was clearly visible in the light from the hallway.

"Well, that’s _splendid_ , because I need to get back downstairs and finish the French toast I promised Alex so she wouldn’t throttle me. See you two crazy kids in a few!”

Morgan dashed away, and Chuck could hear the sound of Morgan’s heavy, fast footfalls down the steps at the end of the hall.

Sarah scampered back over to Chuck and bent over to plant a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Happy 2014, Chuck."

"Happy 2014, Sarah."

Chuck gave her a quick peck before Sarah stood up and walked away. Chuck sat up a little straighter, then rubbed at his eyes.

"Why is it always so easy to wake up for missions and so hard when we’re supposed to be doing something _fun_?”

Sarah ducked her head back out the door of their walk-in closet.

"I don’t know, but you shake a tailfeather, Bartowski, and I might even have time to show you one of my New Year’s resolutions _before_ we leave for the parade.”

And suddenly, his exhaustion was gone.


End file.
